


Leatherbound

by elena0206



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Hannibal, Dom Will, Dom/sub, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Humiliation, M/M, Name-Calling, Sub Hannibal, Top Will, Top Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena0206/pseuds/elena0206
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble originally posted <a href="http://crave-that-mineral.tumblr.com/post/136854340180/leatherbound-ao3-link-control-is-a-taste">on Tumblr</a> with a gif set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leatherbound

_“Control is a taste I’ve acquired over the course of many years. It’s who I am.”_

A rather feeble lie, lacking passion and the urge to be convincing. Will allowed it. He allowed Hannibal the liberty of pretending to care about maintaining his façade and of voicing his whims and caprices. But they both knew the truth. And the truth always eluded Hannibal’s carefully constructed sentences and poured into his moans and whimpers and pleadings. The truth was in the whiz of leather splitting air apart and red marks spreading across firm flesh.

An unfortunate lie betrayed by its own liar. If not through his obedience, then through his eagerness to obey. The moments between an order and complying with an order were what really gave it all away. A whistle from Will was all it took. Hannibal would put his collar on – _like a good boy_ – and drop to his knees. And then he was Will’s to consume.

“I want you to forget who you are,” Will said, and then paused, allowing his words to linger on his lips and hover in the space between the two of them. More than a wish, it was an order, one that Hannibal would inevitably – _gladly_ – obey. “I want you to be my bitch.”

His body tensed up in a heartbeat and his breathing became faster and more erratic in fervent anticipation. Although deeply anchored in routine, it always felt new and exciting. Will’s voice was never the same tone, his strokes and slaps never the same intensity, his touch never boring, his punishment never undesired.

Hannibal closed his eyes and swallowed, waiting.

A tilted smile tugged at the corner of Will’s lips and he blinked slowly.

A groan rolled out of Hannibal’s throat when the cold leather smacked his bare thigh.


End file.
